Musings by The Poet Loriet
Sink or Swim
When you first met me,
I was . . .
beautiful, smart, creative.
I had it all.
You were going to
camp on my doorstep
until I let you in.
(Now, we'll never take
that camping trip we planned).
You told me that
you remembered
the first time I came in
to the restaurant
where you work
three years ago...
where I sat,
who I was with.
I took your breath away
(or so you said)...
and~wow~now you're "here,
kissing me,
can you believe it?"
It was one of your many
"confessions" to me.
Another confession:
remember when
"I whispered in your ear~
Can the kids have a lollipop?
I needed an excuse.
I had to touch your
beautiful hair~
in a way that you
wouldn't have me
arrested."
Remember?
You could see yourself
being with me
for a very long time.
You came on strong,
very persistent,
lots of flattery
(I told you flattery
would get you everywhere)
and you captured me.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
And the winner is...
Was it all just a game
to see if you could?
I always believed you meant it
when you whispered, "I love you"
on carnival night,
no matter what you said.
What's happened since then?
How did we go from that to,
"I just like hanging out with you.
I like you.
Are you still my friend?"
HELL NO! I'm not your "friend"...
How did I get demoted
from woman of your dreams
to "Pal" . . .
Either hook me or
throw me back in.
I'm flailing on your line.
You can't string me along,
mount me on your wall...
I'm not a taxidermy prize
devoid of emotion.
I'm not your mermaid.
If you want to love me,
reel me in. I'm yours.
I won't put up a fight.
If you're keeping me
as a matter of convenience,
a glittery decoration to
adorn your heart with,
then un-hook me.
I'll just keep swimming~
swimming~swimming~
swimming~swimming~
Doot doot doo
Lori Beal
I was . . .
beautiful, smart, creative.
I had it all.
You were going to
camp on my doorstep
until I let you in.
(Now, we'll never take
that camping trip we planned).
You told me that
you remembered
the first time I came in
to the restaurant
where you work
three years ago...
where I sat,
who I was with.
I took your breath away
(or so you said)...
and~wow~now you're "here,
kissing me,
can you believe it?"
It was one of your many
"confessions" to me.
Another confession:
remember when
"I whispered in your ear~
Can the kids have a lollipop?
I needed an excuse.
I had to touch your
beautiful hair~
in a way that you
wouldn't have me
arrested."
Remember?
You could see yourself
being with me
for a very long time.
You came on strong,
very persistent,
lots of flattery
(I told you flattery
would get you everywhere)
and you captured me.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
And the winner is...
Was it all just a game
to see if you could?
I always believed you meant it
when you whispered, "I love you"
on carnival night,
no matter what you said.
What's happened since then?
How did we go from that to,
"I just like hanging out with you.
I like you.
Are you still my friend?"
HELL NO! I'm not your "friend"...
How did I get demoted
from woman of your dreams
to "Pal" . . .
Either hook me or
throw me back in.
I'm flailing on your line.
You can't string me along,
mount me on your wall...
I'm not a taxidermy prize
devoid of emotion.
I'm not your mermaid.
If you want to love me,
reel me in. I'm yours.
I won't put up a fight.
If you're keeping me
as a matter of convenience,
a glittery decoration to
adorn your heart with,
then un-hook me.
I'll just keep swimming~
swimming~swimming~
swimming~swimming~
Doot doot doo
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem ---
Sink or Swim
Sink or Swim
